The Kiss of Death
by WritersOfTheRain
Summary: Bella is finally getting away from it all. In her new home in a small oilfield town, she's excited to play the field and have some fun - that is, until she hears about the strange guy who drives girls crazy after just one kiss: The Kiss of Death. Bella is immediately intrigued but soon finds herself rebuffed, confused, and insatiably addicted to what she can't seem to have.
1. Chapter 1

He hardly spoke a word to anyone that night. That's the first thing I remember. His eyes scoured the crowd with a predator-like hunger laced with a flavor of intense cynicism. That's the second thing I remember. The third? How badly I wanted to get with his blonde friend.

The whole thing began with a simple walk up the hill to the water tower that once was the main feature of the small town of Braxton. Beth, The only woman who responded to my craigslist ad looking for a local roommate, walked next to me carrying a cooler full of beer. even in the darkness I could see her hunched over with the weight of it. I offered to help, but she was determined.

"You've got to be tough to survive around here," she said. "If you're going to be a lazy ass girly girl, you may as well pick up a job stripping and fucking for money at the local watering hole."

I smiled at her candor. I really couldn't have planned it better myself. I had to weed through dozens of very graphic ad responses from the local men before I found hers. She was a breath of fresh air just for her tact, and even more so when I met her, her dark skin gleaming with tattoos, her nose ring, lip ring and eyebrow ring convincing me that maybe I had found my soulmate.

Her small innocent face peaked out from behind the short bob cut that framed her cheeks as she huffed up the hill. The sound of voices and music was starting to carry down the hill to our location and fear and anticipation boiled in the pit of my belly. As we reach the water tower, I could see the lights and a few people hanging on the edges of the party. I cracked my knuckles, ready to face my new life.

Beth threw the cooler to the floor and faced me. "Okay, Bella, just need to clarify one thing before we go in there," she said.

I looked at her, eyebrows raised.

"There are two things required to survive in the oil field. One: you can't be innocent. Please tell me you fucked at least a few guys before and had at least one one night stand. If you're looking for a commitment, there's a chance you might find it, but first you're going to have to weed through all these other assholes first."

I laughed and clapped my hands together. I had estimated Beth was about ten years younger than me, probably 25 or 26. She seemed far more experienced than most post-undergrads but there's never a match for ten years in the real-world. This girl was about to get the full 101 on life chez-Bella. "First of all, I've always been more interested in deep personal conversations than sex. That said, deep conversations typically lead to sex. And guys who like both deep conversations and sex, have a tendency to show up at my door with engagement rings, pools of tears, slit wrists, and in some cases all three. I'm here because I've heard that I can skip the deep conversations and go straight to the sex. Capische?" Okay, I was exaggerating a little – I'd never been overly sex-crazed but this place has a reputation and I needed what it purported to offer: no deep connections or excessive emotion, just casual, detached fun. And any girl can handle some good sex along with it.

Her dancing eyes combined with her pursed lips told me she approved. "You may be the most well-informed woman who has ever entered this city," she commented. "Can I assume there is no long distance boyfriend then? Because that's the second no-no. I mean, it's fine if you do, but you will cheat on him so you need to be aware of that."

My mind wandered back to Briggs and the look of devastation on his face when I told him I was moving 1000 miles away and that I wouldn't likely be coming back. He was such a sweetheart, so perfect for me in every way, really. But so not my type. None of them ever were.

I shook my head. "No boyfriend."

She placed her hand on my arm. "Well then, my friend, you and I are going to have a lot of fun with a lot of different dicks."

I couldn't help but laugh. I wasn't so interested in gratuitous sex; I was just getting away from the cluster fuck I created back home. I know, I sound like an insensitive slut, but the whole thing really transpired before I even knew what was going on. I should've known I was poisoned from the moment I had my first kiss at fourteen years old. But everyone makes mistakes and this was my chance to start over.

I gestured toward the party that was gaining momentum on the other side of the water tower. "Lead the way."

Beth hauled the cooler back in her arms and nodded towards the music. "Don't worry, I'll give you the low-down on everyone. Who to get with, who to avoid like the plague, and which ones will make you breakfast in the morning."

She brushed past me with a wink.

I could tell this was going to get fucked up fast.

"The Bitch has arrived!"

"She's got more beer, ladies!"

"Beth, you _have_ to tell me exactly what happened last weekend."

The moment we came into view of the party, a swarm of five or six girls surrounded us, all chattering, giggling, and doting on Beth – clearly, I made friends with the right person. Within minutes, each them had an open beer and stories of rig accidents, sexcapades, and hot new frac hands were flying back and forth like commuter trains.

I hung back, as was my MO, and surveyed the crowd.

It was entirely expected that the party would be 90% men, but it still took me aback to be surrounded by so much sausage. Men of all shapes, sizes, and ages were milling about, slapping each other on the back, knocking back shots and chugging beers, and cussing up a storm. There were a few cute ones that looked about my age – and even more cute ones that looked much younger – and even a few sporting wedding rings. Good luck there, boys. A small set of speakers sat on a folding table next to an iPhone, but other than that and about five coolers full of beer, it was pretty much just an open field at the top of a hill full of horny oilfield workers.

So, pretty much heaven.

"Oh my fucking God, Beth, he's here."

Now that sounded juicy. I turned back to the gaggle of ladies. A large girl with blonde hair pointed animatedly through the crowd, her cheek almost pasted to Beth's as she shared what appeared to be (evidenced by the sudden quieting of every other girl in the group) incredibly valuable gossip.

"No way," said Beth, her eyes fixed on a spot near the folding table. "I don't see him, Pat. Where?"

"Right there! He's sitting in a chair behind Kirk."

I could only assume Kirk was the massively delicious blonde God standing across the field from us in apparent deep conversation with another guy I couldn't really see sitting in a folding chair. It was hard to care about the guy in the chair with Kirk's backside to relax my eyes on. He was ripped from head to toe, with a beautiful head of bushy blonde hair and a very firm looking ass.

I couldn't imagine why Pat gave a damn about anyone else with that view but she continued to fret. "Do you see him? What is he doing here?"

A brunette gal stepped a little closer. "What's going on? Who are you guys talking about?"

Pat pulled her in by the arm. "The Kiss of Death! He's right over there."

The brunette's eyes widened. "Well, fuck my world, it _is_ him."

Just then, Kirk stepped aside to reveal a good-looking but by no means drool-worthy man with wavy, messy brown hair lazing in a folding chair.

I smirked. "Okay, what's the big deal? He's not that hot."

All the girls fell silent. Every eye was on me.

Pat nudged Beth. "You haven't told her yet?"

Beth bit her lip and glanced over at me. I'd only known the girl a week but never once during that week had she seemed even remotely worried about…well, anything.

This Kiss of Death must be important.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth slapped her arms to her side. "Well, I didn't think I would have to tell Bella about him; he's not usually here!"

I noticed the brunette had fallen silent and shrunk back from our group. She seemed to lost in thought, almost paralyzed. "I don't think I can do this," she murmured.

That caught the attention of the rest of the group and they gathered around her.

"You've got this, Halley," Pat assured. "You're fine. You were totally fine when you thought he wasn't here."

"But he IS here! And I can't – I just –

The girls' murmurs faded into the background as they consoled their fallen one. No doubt she has slept with this guy- The Kiss of Death, they called him? – and it hadn't ended well. I was more than familiar with female addiction to drama but this seemed a little over the top.

My eyes wandered over to the mysterious convict. He was lazing casually, unconcerned with the goings-on around him. Then, Beneath a tuft of boyish brown hair, a pair of deep brown eyes met mine. They narrowed, sending a shiver down my backbone. My eyes flitted to other areas of the party, each time returning to his, and each time finding them still piercing holes in my retina.

I shook him off and pulled Beth aside. "This little drama circle here is super fascinating but I'm gonna go grab a beer and poke around a little bit. I'll catch up with you later."

She grabbed my arm before I could turn away. "Just stay away from him, okay?" Her eyes blinked in the direction of the Kiss of Death.

I rolled my eyes. "I get it, he's Halley's. I won't go twisting the knife on her."

Her eyes were wild as she shook her head. "It's not that. He's not hers; he's nobody's."

"Oh yeah? The Kiss of Death? With a name like that, he's nobody's?"

She grimaced and her tongue rolled into her cheek. "Just trust me. Keep your distance. You don't want to fuck around with him."

Well, I didn't before…I narrowed my eyes. "Okay, but I expect a thorough explanation of the intricacies of this kiss of death he is known for later."

Beth's face hardened. "Fine. I'll spill if you promise to find someone else to hook up with. I'm not fucking around, Bella, you're playing with the brand of fire that none of us of have ever seen before with that one."

My instinct was to chuckle but the ice in her eyes reminded me of the look my adoptive mother used to give me when I asked what by real mother was like. I glanced over at Kirk, the blonde God, still hanging out loosely near the Kiss of Death. Meh. He was better looking anyways. "Calm down, Beth. Is the one they call Kirk free for the taking?"

She twisted her lips to the side. "You'll piss off Maribel, but that ship has sailed for her anyways. And if she isn't pissed at you, she'll be pissed at someone else anyways."

I stretch my neck at the girls, still hovering over Halley and gabbing animatedly. "Just so I know what I'm getting into, which one is Maribel?"

"Long blonde hair, plaid flannel shirt, cowgirl boots. Looks like she just walked out of a fashion-blind version of the Dukes of Hazzard."

I took a good look – she looked to be maybe a few years younger than me – one of the older of the group of girls – but no one I couldn't take down if need be.

I nodded triumphantly. "Kirk it is."

Beth seemed uncharacteristically relieved of my announcement. She turned to the other girls. "Come on, hookers, let's get some dancing started!"

As they pulled each other to the middle of the crowd, I made my way off to the side to plan my approach. Kirk hadn't wandered far from the watering hole, which was convenient because I had not yet grabbed myself a beer.

I strode over, wagging my ass in my new Miss Me jeans, and straightened the straps of my purple tank top. I had just had my shoulder length sandy brown hair colored with blonde and red highlights, so I tossed it all over to one side with the flip of my wrist as I approached the beer coolers.

I place my hands on my hips. "OK boys, who can point me to the Blue Moon?"

Three heads turned, but I had conveniently placed myself at the elbow of Kirk, unbeknownst to him.

And he saw me first, but a man I would've guessed to be a few years older than me beat him to the punch. "Red cooler, beautiful. Grab one for me to?" He threw me a wink.

"Sure thing." I grabbed two cold bottles, tucked one under my arm, and tossed him his. I ambled very slowly passed Kirk, then looked up at him through my lashes. "You got a bottle opener?"

He smiled and pulled out his keys. "Ain't nobody here who doesn't have a bottle opener whenever you might need one, darlin."

His redneck drawl took me by surprise but it had a sexy edge to it that made my eyes sparkle. "Well then I guess I'm in the right place."


	3. Chapter 3

By then, four or five men were standing in my vicinity, looking at me like I was a celebrity. And dear God, did I enjoy the attention. Except, of course, I couldn't help but notice that the Kiss of Death was preoccupied with his cell phone. Beth's words of warning repeated in my mind, but they only serve to increase the urge to get his attention.

"So you came here with Beth," asked Kirk. "You in town visiting?"

"Oh no. I'm here permanently. Just moved from Telluride."

Eyebrows rose all around.

"That's a bit of a haul," said the older guy I'd given the beer too. He stepped forward and offered his hand. "Welcome. Name is Travis."

I shook his hand.

"What brings you all the way out here?"

I gave them a sly look and promptly changed the subject. "What did all of you come out here for?"

Another bald guy standing nearby snorted. "Wee what I was saying, boys? It's the same every time: either a money whore or a ring whore."

I pulled my head back. "First of all, you came here for the money too. Second of all, what the fuck is a ring whore?"

I could feel Kirks interest increase. "She's a sprite one, Tom. You'd better watch out."

Tom began speaking animatedly, his eyes wide and crazy. I backed up a step. "Of course we all came here for the money. But this is men's work, so we deserve to be here. All the rest a ya ladies is just out here to prove somethin'. Some damn feminist bullshit. And a ring whore is a woman who comes out here lookin' for an engagement ring. She wants a man who can provide for her. So basically she's in it for the money too - you're all just money whores in a different form."

Kirk gave me a gentle elbow. "Don't listen to his bullshit. He's just teed off because his old lady left him and he hasn't gotten laid since."

Travis took another gulp of beer. "The world doesn't work like that no more, Tom. You keep talking like that and nice girls like this won't want to be around you anymore."

Tom huffed. "I don't need no money whores. When I get enough money doing dust in the oil field, I'm getting out of this place and find me a real woman."

Travis rolled his eyes. "Here we go again."

I inched closer to Kirk as the arguing continued. I was in the midst of examining his biceps when those stern brown eyes behind him caught my attention again. Once again, they regarded me with deep interest but also a certain distain I couldn't quite put my finger on. This time, I didn't turn away. I stared back, meeting his intensity, daring him to intimidate me.

He didn't flinch, but instead raise an eyebrow, our gaze locked as he lifted a Heineken to his lips.

A guy sitting next to him nudged him and forced his attention away from mine. I took full advantage of the opportunity to crawl across him from head to toe.

Once again, I was struck by how average she was. He had beautiful eyes, and a nice dusting of hair across his chin and cheeks that always whispered erotic word straight to my loins, but he didn't have Kirk's body. I mean, he was lean and in good shape, but no bulging biceps and he didn't appear to be in the kind of shape to have washboard abs. So what was the big fucking deal with this guy? Did he use Chapstick made from Kenny Bellaney's cum or something?

"What do you think, Bella?"

I frowned and reluctantly returned my intention to Kirk. "What was that, hon?" I gave him a quick once over, attempting to fight the desire to return my eyes to the deep brown ones lingering behind him.

Kirk followed my line of sight, rolling his eyes as he turned back around to face me. He shook his head. "Ah, Edward, always a good one with the ladies." His chuckle was tainted with self-deprecation.

My instinct was to reassure him that I was interested in him, not his death lipped friend, but my mind lingered on one of his words. Edward? Was that this mysterious man's name?

Travis his eyes carried the same look of defeat as Kirk's. "It's OK, Bella," he teased. "We are used to it. You want an introduction?"

I immediately flushed. No, I did not want an introduction. I knew of two girls I could potentially piss off with that action and I didn't want to start my life here with enemies amongst people I needed as friends. I vigorously shook my head and try to find another topic to engage them on.

"Aw, come on, Bella, he doesn't bite!" Travis turned and waved in the Kiss of Death's direction.

I panicked, turned around, and plowed my way through the crowd to the dance floor where the girls were giggling and getting drunker by the minute.

I threw myself into them and danced with the vigor that I hoped would shake off the awkward but tantalizing feelings creeping across my skin. The other girls were drunk enough that they seemed to forget that they barely knew me and, before I knew it, we were all grinding it up real good, putting on a bit of a show for the men to a soundtrack of cheers and whoops.

I stepped away to work some of my own moves, my fourth beer making its way into my system, when a pair of hands lightly grabbed my waist. Too drunk to realize how large they were, I mistakenly assumed it was one of the girls. I placed my hands on top of them and melted into the movement of the body behind me. It wasn't until I laced my fingers into theirs, and pulled those two hands around my waist that I realize the arms were hairy.

My jaw dropped as I turned to get a glance of my suitor - hoping it was Kyle but secretly hoping it wasn't. He hugged my back against him so it was difficult to get a good view of his face. I saw the dark brown hair from the corner of my eye, but it took some major gymnastics to pull myself around enough to see into those deep brown eyes.

 _Run away run away_ , the voice in my head kept saying. Instead, I reach back to wrap my arms around his neck, pushed into the feel of his body behind me, and enjoyed the feel of his hot breath on my skin. He ran his nose along my shoulder, nudged it under the strap of my tank top.

The potential reactions of the girls officially condemned from my mind, I turned around and threw my hands in to that wavy brown hair. He pulled me close, his knee nudging between my legs. I ran my hands down his face to his shoulders. Chin to forehead, he held me as we moved sensually against each other. God damn. Kiss of Death, indeed. I had plans to get me some of that ASAP.

Beth fucked it all up.

She ruined it when she grabbed my arm to pull me away. She killed my libido when she shoved me to the side of the crowd, up against a tree, and stuck her finger in my face. She killed all the fun with her low but unmistakably furious words of warning.

"I was not fucking around, Bella," she seethed. "I know it sounds like magical bullshit, but this guy is bad news. I swear to God, if you let him kiss you, I will not be there to mop up that mess. It goes the same way every time this is not some silly vampire horror story; this shit's real. And I'm not gonna sit here and watch you get sucked into that guys web. I don't know what it is about him, but I've seen it too many times. Back off. Right the fuck now."

The lights of the party danced in my vision behind her, but even my drunken stupor I couldn't ignore her. Still, I groaned. "Do you realize how stupid that sounds, Beth? I'm a big girl. In fact, I put on my big girl pants before I came to this party today."

She turned and pointed at the other girls who are watching us from afar. "Those other girls are big girls too. Halley was the toughest fucking girl I know before she messed around with him. She dumped every guy she ever dated. I don't know what it is with this guy, maybe he has cake flavored pheromones or something, I don't know." She grabbed my face and forced my eyes to meet hers. "Stop. It. You're done with him now."

I threw my arms in the air. "Fine. I will stay away from vampire magical kiss boy." My eyes wandered back to the party where we was standing on the edge of the crowd again, hands shoved in his pockets, his visage brooding. Kirk was standing not far away - yep, Kirk was definitely hotter. But there was something about that lean, lanky figure and those deep, probing eyes...

Beth grabbed my hand. "Now come hang out with us. It'll help you stay away from him if we keep our eye on you."

Jesus Christ. They thought they had to babysit me?

I reluctantly followed her. I did my best to avert my gaze from the edge of the party where the Kiss of Death again sat in his chair with a beer in hand. Watching me with interest.

The girls kept me well entertained. They dragged me to the dance floor, to get more drinks, to gossip in the woods, to meet the cutest guys and the funniest guys. They treated me real good.

But I still couldn't help it. I couldn't help but make a plan. My mind wandered off on its own adventure where I found an excuse to sneak away to the woods and lure the Kiss of Death with me. Almost without my own permission, I decided I would find away. Before the night was over, I would run my hands over his five o'clock shadow, I would feel that curly brown hair under my skin, I would taste the Kiss of Death.


	4. Chapter 4

Have you ever heard a crack of thunder when you're six beers in? I wouldn't recommend it. You might think a semi truck just crashed into a water tower.

Apparently I wasn't alone, because the entire party hit the floor like the victims of a suicide bombing. When we all came to our senses and realized that nothing had exploded, we discovered that we had been too drunk to notice the storm rolling in.

I stood up, each arm immediately accosted by Beth and Maribel.

"Come on, Chica!" cried Maribel. "Time for Denny's! It's in walking distance - if we hurry, we might beat the storm!"

I glanced over at the girl who had assigned herself as my 'bestie' over the past hour or so. She was cute, perky, the type of girl that every guy adores. I couldn't help but adore her too - not that I let it deter me from my mission...

I pulled away from their grasp. "I've got to grab my purse! I don't know where I left it!" I wasn't lying - I had left my purse. But I knew exactly where it was. It was sitting just feet away from me beside one of the coolers.

I dove into the crowd in the opposite direction.

"OK, well grab your contraband and meet us at the bottom of the hill!" called Beth and my wake.

Contraband? What did they think I had in there?

I wandered through the crowd, completely and utterly clueless. I couldn't see the Kiss of Death anywhere much less concoct an impromptu plan for luring him to me with my head in such a fog.

Men were rushing in all directions as drops from the storm began to fall and another crack of thunder hit, followed by a flash of very helpful lightning. A couple of guys grabbed the cooler and started hauling it down the hill followed by several more guys with several more coolers. If I didn't hurry, I was going to be the only one left.

Another bolt of lightning lit my staging area, but as the rain began to pour, I still couldn't find my mark.

"Fuck it." I ran to where I had left my purse, my hair already soaked and my clothing not far off.

But I couldn't find it. My purse wasn't where I had left it. I dropped to my hands and knees and clawed across the grass, searching desperately in the darkness to find some unnatural lump that might resemble my purse.

I finally found it crumpled by the water tower. I snatched it up like the last stickers at a 7-Eleven, turned to run down the hill, and smacked into a wet dark blue T-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

It was almost too perfect the way the lightning flashed right as I looked up into the eyes of the Kiss of Death. Tim Burton would have shit his knickers.

Edward said nothing, but glanced up into the looming storm, then back at me, and shook his head with a wave of his index finger.

I scowled, but before I could bite into him for his childish mockery, he slipped his arm around my waist and ushered me quickly away from the water tower to the soundtrack of another terrifying boom of thunder.

About halfway down the hill, he grabbed me by the hand and pulled me off the trail. The noisy storm deafened my protests, and I was forced to trip and fall behind him until we reached a rock outcropping. He lead me around to the other side where three large boulders met to create a small but deep cove.

I stepped gratefully inside and huddled in the corner. He crouched next to me, dipped his head, and raised his eyebrows.

Apparently this one wasn't one for words.

I nodded. "I'm fine."

He sat down next to me and raised one arm, hesitating as he reached around my shoulders.

I chuckled. "It's OK." Oh yes, it's OK. In fact, it's quite perfect.

I snuggled into his arm, the storm howling and the rain pounding around us. Our clothing was soaked through, our skin cold as ice, but I felt warm. His body heat was like a furnace. I eyed him from under his arm, wondering if his lips would mind warming me too.

He stared straight ahead, focused on something outside the cave. His eyes really were very piercing. I half expected the cluster of trees outside the cave to explode under his gaze. It was beautiful, in a way. Except I wanted him to be looking at me like that.

"Is this where you bring all the girls?" I teased.

His gaze flitted down to mine, then he turned away and shook his head in frustration. He pulled his arm from around me, leaning it on his knee.

What the hell? What was this guy's deal? "Sorry I asked," I muttered. The storm outside began to slow and I moved to get up and get away from this freak.

He reached his arm out and grabbed mine, pulling me back to the dirt. He watched me momentarily with his hardened gaze before turning away again and running his hand through his hair.

I heaved a labored sigh. Okay, so he doesn't want me to leave. He doesn't want me to talk. And he's definitely not making any moves.

So why the hell are we even here?

He drew his knees back up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. His toe started tapping impatiently against the rock. I folded my arms over my chest, anxious for the storm to subside completely.

He dropped his head into his arms momentarily, and when it came back up, he planted those eyes on mine once more. This time they looked softer.

This guy was a fucking magnet. I couldn't look away. My heart skipped a beat as he scooted closer and planted one hand on the stone floor just behind me. His eyes still locked on mine and his face just inches away, he raised his other hand to my chin and ran his thumb carefully along it.

He leaned into my ear. "I..." A dagger of pleasure shot through me at the sound of his deep voice. He sighed and leaned his forehead against my ear before raising his lips again to try once more. "I like you," he finally croaked out. He ran his nose along the spot just above my ear, down my cheek to my jaw. He hovered centimeters from my face, the microscopic hairs in my skin reaching for him, aching for him to come just one stitch closer.

Fuck. I placed my hand on his rough cheek and traced a line down his neck, shoulder, all the way down to his fingers. I didn't want to wait any longer for his special brand of poison. I turned to line my lips up with his. I leaned forward.

He leaned away.

What the fuck?!

I glared at the floor.

He placed his hand on my knee, his head shaking back-and-forth within such a small radius that it was almost unnoticeable. "No...I...no..."

This guy was driving me nuts. He just rejected me and yet now he was acting like he regretted it. "No?" I seethed. "No what?"

He pursed his lips and sat back.

"Whatever." I stood and stomped out of the cave.


	5. Chapter 5

He was at my heels in seconds. I stormed back to the trail and continue down the hill, his work boots and worried gaze keeping up with every step.

When I reached the parking lot where only one car remained - his no doubt - I realized I didn't have a ride home. I place my hands on my hips for a few seconds before deciding I would rather walk home then deal with this crazy mute any longer. I turned away from the black Jeep Wrangler and stocked off in the opposite direction.

His hand clasped over mine, stopping me in my tracks. I made the mistake of looking at him.

God damn, those eyes.

He jerked his head towards his Jeep. "Coffee?"

My jaw set. "Why? What's the point?" I don't think I had ever been so baffled by a man in my entire life. "What do you want?"

A very faint smile painted his lips. "Coffee," he repeated. He ran his thumb over my hand. "With you."

I looked around the forest. Why was I even considering going with him? No, it was worse. I was definitely going with him - I had already decided. I stomped my foot on the ground in frustration. _Is this the source of his strange magic? He just strings girls along until they're desperate for that kiss? Some kind of messed up psychological game?_

He continued to pull me in like a tractor beam while I deliberated. He shoved his hand in his pocket and looked at the ground, now smirking.

I scoffed. "What?"

He looked up again and shook his head. He gestured once again to the Jeep.

"Fine," I muttered.

He tightened his grip on my hand, his smile now larger and, oh god, so gorgeous. And charming. And kissable.

To my surprise, he pulled me right past truck to the entrance of the parking lot. We headed down a side road towards town, the asphalt crunching under our feet, and the trees looming darkly overhead sending down a few spare drops of rainwater every few seconds.

Not more than a half mile down the road, the heavily wooded area to our right opened up just enough to reveal a small cabin about a quarter-mile off the road. We followed a dirt path through the darkness.

Weren't we supposed to be going to a coffee shop?

As my view of the cabin improved, I couldn't help but have flashbacks of campy high school horror movies. If my calculations were correct, we were headed to an abandoned shack in the woods where we would try to make out, only to be accosted by a hooded stranger with a bloodied weapon.

I shuddered.

Edward snapped to attention, quickly pulling his hoodie off and insisting I put it on. It was cute – especially considering it was still damp from the rain.

When I was finally finished fumbling with the hoodie and could see again, I realized that the cabin was not a cabin, in fact. It was a small, quaint coffee shop with nothing but a small hand carved sign over a glass front door that read "Coffee in the Woods." The outside was very plainly decorated, nothing but log construction with one large window with a pair of red velvet curtains halfway pulled across the inside. A number of heads bobbed and chatted inside, looking so cozy and warm in their little sanctuary from the darkness.

We had stood a good twenty feet outside the entrance of the café for several minutes before I realized that Edward was staring at it through his thickened eyebrows, his visage heavy and guarded.

I squeezed his hand in question.

He relaxed slightly, swallowed, tossed me a pained smile, and pulled me towards the door.

The jingle of Christmas bells accompanied our entrance. A heavy log wall ran immediately to our right covered with a beautiful piece of what looked like original artwork - an incredible mountain scape with deep purples, blacks, and rolling browns.

To my left was the most miraculous display case I had ever seen. It expanded the width of the shop, an array of dark but colorful lights lighting the inside, each color morphing slowly and beautifully into the next. Inside sat a scrumptious array of muffins, scones, donuts, cupcakes, sandwiches, baguettes, cheeses, sliced meats, crepes, German pancakes...every delicacy, foreign or domestic was represented in that long case. I swear I graced the floor with a drip of drool.

A woman appeared behind the counter and smiled wildly at Edward. "Mon cher! Ca fait longtemps! Comment ca va?"

In typical Edward fashion (I know, it's like I know him now), he just nodded and then pointed at a couple of items in the case.

He turned to me. "Bella?"

I did a double take. Did I tell him my name?

The woman behind the counter interrupted my thoughts by jabbing her hand in my face and speaking in a strong French accent. "Bella? It's your name? Enchante! I'm called Madame Pinot."

I brightened. Someone to talk to? Hell, yes. "Madame Pinot. Like the wine?"

She laughed. "Perhaps. But this you don't tell Beau, here."

I chuckled with just a hint of reservation. Beau? His nickname? Or a term of endearment?

My question was soon answered. Edward ordered a couple of coffees and picked up two sweatshirts embroidered with "Cafe in the Woods." As we carried our things into the seating area, a few guys from a large group gathered near the window stood up and approached us jovially.

"Beau!" one cried, "It's Bo, he's back."

A very skinny man with chiseled features slapped him on the back. "We haven't seen you for a while, man. You back to join your people?"

Edward shrugged him off.

"I guess not," mumbled the other who wore a light gray MSU sweatshirt. "Come on, man, I promise we won't make you talk."

Edward glared, grabbed my hand, turned around and flicked his middle finger behind him.

A collective "Oooooooooo" along with applause rang out behind him.

"Okay, calm down you bunch of babies," rang out a female voice. Edward and I glanced back to see a larger woman with long curly sand-colored locks, tight jeans, and a pair of clunky cowgirl boots step forward. She nodded at Edward. "Good to see you, Beau. Come back anytime."

Edward blushed red, but he nodded back. He guided me around another log wall to a more secluded area at the back of the cafe, right next to a gorgeous roaring fire.

 _ **Don't forget to visit my website for more stories and poetry.**_ __ __

 _ **www dot writersoftherain dot com/blog**_


	6. Chapter 6

Edward slumped down on a wooden chair next to a small, off-keel hardwood table. He tossed one of the sweatshirts to me and took off his shirt to pull on the other one.

Hell yeah, I looked. You better believe it. Once again, he wasn't ripped or bulging with appeal, but then again...somehow, he was.

I pulled the other sweatshirt over my head - it was much too big for me - and went to work pulling my tank top off underneath. I took the spot across from him, waiting for him to explain the little incident with his friends who called him "Beau." Then I remembered that I was dealing with Mr Mime.

I pulled a croissant in front of me and sip my coffee. My eyebrow cocked, I asked, "So are you going to tell me what that was about?"

He stared at the fire, his body slouched, one hand on his coffee, the other slung lazily over the back of the chair. A minuscule shake of his head told me I wasn't going to get any more intel on that situation.

I shoved the croissant in my mouth. When I tried to speak, bits and pieces flew everywhere. "So...this place is quaint. You come here often?" Even with my rude hailstorm of food particles, he still barely flinched.

I tried a different tack. "What exactly do you do out here? Frak hand? Oilfield supplier? Stripper?"

His chest shook with laughter and I got another peek at that breathtaking smile. But still not a word. He looked over at me momentarily, then took another swig from his coffee cup.

I tossed my croissant on the table. "Okay, what's the deal. If you're just going to ignore me then why did you even bring me here?"

He turned to me, his eyes wide and flitting around. He then took one last long, hard stare at me while I arranged my purse and ran my fingers through my wet brown locks, debating whether or not I was going to leave. Seriously, this guy was incorrigible. Maddening. And still refusing to talk.

At last, he placed his cup on the table and grazed a hand through his hair. "Maintenance manager. Frak company."

It came out almost like a whisper and my stomach felt into my knees again. What was with that voice? Deep and gritty, like gravel shaking underneath an earthquake.

I still kept my bag close, fingering my house key threateningly. "What do you do exactly?" I challenged.

His face looked pained. He slid his coffee between his hands on the table.

I stood up to leave.

He stood up and blocked my exit.

"Talk. Or I leave." I placed my hand on my hip. "What. Do. You. Do."

He crossed his arms over his chest, a wicked look in his eyes. He cocked his head slightly to the side as he spoke, pronouncing the words carefully. "Maint-en-ance."

I fumed. Treating me like a child, was he? That was his plan? I grabbed the rest of my croissants, shoved past him and stormed to the door to the tinkle of the words "A la prochain!" from the shop owner.

I was admittedly no less than hugely relieved when I heard Edwards' footsteps coming after me. Still, I threw my shoulder into the door and headed out into the night, determined that this game was not going to be one-sided. I walked down the dirt path to the road, heavy boots clomping behind me.

A hand grabbed my arm.

I ignored the tremor that shot through me and faced him, ripping my arm from his grasp. "What are you doing? Let me go. I'm walking home."

He dipped his head and raised his eyebrows as if to say, _Really? How exactly are you going to do that?_ I was reminded that I had no clue where I was or where I needed to go. My shoulders sunk.

He jerked his head in the opposite direction where his Jeep sat.

I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes. "What? What's over there? Why would I go that way?"

He returned my glare with gritted teeth. I savored the moment, but not for long. After a few seconds, his face relaxed and a small almost undetectable smile brushed his lips.

His look changed to pity, he shrugged, and turned around and walked away.

I stood there in shock for a minute, waiting for him to turn around and come back. He didn't.

"God fucking dammit!" I screeched. I clenched my fists at my sides, refusing to follow him. I could find my own way. Someone would find me.

Someone... In an oilfield town...full of men, not all of which were trustworthy...

I cursed again, kicked the ground with my foot, and gave in.

By the time I caught up to Edward he was almost to the jeep. I half expected him to drive off without me, but instead he walked around to my side first and opened the door.

I did my best to keep my frustration under control. "Thank you," I said with measured precision and I pulled myself in onto the cloth seat.

Much to my surprise, he didn't go back around to his side right away. Instead, he pulled a five point harness down from the chair and snapped it at my pelvis.

I looked down at what appeared to be a adult sized baby seat. "Just a little paranoid, are you?" I said.

When I looked up, I realized he hadn't moved. His hand rested behind my seat, and he leaned over me, watching me carefully. My heart pounded, my breath stopped, as if my body was trying to kill me and keep me alive at the same time. I couldn't resist the urge to touch his face, to run my fingers across his rough stubble, to touch his hair. I wanted to lean in, tell him it was okay to kiss me, but I didn't dare.

I ran my fingers down his neck and almost died when he shut his eyes and released a small moan. As my fingers played with the collar of his shirt, he exhaled, wound his hands into my still damp hair, and leaned in.

And then he stopped. Just as I was about to taste those famous, delicious lips, he fucking stopped. I'd have murdered my own mother to get him to go that extra two centimeters, but even my small hand on the back of his neck, softly edging his head closer was met with resistance.

Once again, as if my life was on eternal repeat, he moved that irresistible mouth to my ear. "I like you," he murmured, melting me yet again.

Really? You like me? Are you sure about that?

He kissed me on the forehead, shut the door, and walked back to the driver's side.

I felt so humiliated, so disappointed, so burning with confusion I almost jumped right out of my baby seat and opted for the more dangerous route home.

But I didn't. And when he pulled into his seat and the jeep the roared to life, he took my hand in his again. I immediately calmed. He looked at me with a smile, just a hint of apology in his eyes, and I couldn't stay angry. He kissed my knuckles and pulled out of the parking lot.


	7. Chapter 7

"Where. The fuck. Were you?" Beth was like hurricane over my bed, waking me up with a roar so intense I thought the wind from her breath might knock me out of bed.

I forced my eyes open to find three figures hovering over me.

"Mmmgrrrrrrrgin..." I mumbled. I stuffed my fist in my eye to clear the fuzz, then ran it down my cheek to catch some drool.

"Gross!" cried a female voice I didn't recognize.

"If you don't like it, then don't wake me up at the butt crack of dawn," I grumbled.

"You were with him, weren't you?" Beth sure was demanding. I made a mental note to put another roommate ad up on Craigslist.

"With who?" I could finally see my interrogators. Beth, Halley, and Maribel all stood over me, their heads bobbing like balloons, their hands on their hips.

Maribel folded her arms over her chest. "You know who."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from them to face the wall, pulling my covers tight overtop of me.

Suddenly, my covers flew off and something hard and cold smacked me in the ass. "Hey!"

The girls snickered. "Answer the question, bitch. I have another cell phone with spikes on it."

I glared at Beth. "I don't respond to torture until after ten AM."

"Good." Without warning, she climbed on top of me, straddled my stomach, and pinned my arms above my head.

Goddamn she was strong. And the position she had me in... I made a kissy face and bounced my eyebrows up-and-down.

Halley and Meribel burst out laughing.

"We need to get a video of this for the guys," cried Maribel as she pulled out her phone.

Halley clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with subdued excitement.

Beth released my arm and slapped the phone out of Maribel's hand. "You drop that shit or I'll release yours and Tony's sex tape."

Maribel's face turn to stone. She picked up her phone and shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans almost tucking her red chiffon tank top in with it. She wagged her finger in Beth's face. "You're not going to be able to hold that over my head forever, Silver Pussy."

Silver Pussy? I was tempted to ask, but instead I took advantage of Beth's distraction. Like a fucking Kill Bill assassin, I launched my belly upward, stuck my free hand under her left arm, and flung her off the side of the bed. She hit the floor with a thump.

Halley kneeled down to help her up, but Maribel high-fived me. I leaned over the edge of the bed. "Take that, Silver Pussy. And yes, I was with him." I stood and sashayed proudly to my closet in my lacy nighty. I turned back to the girls and nodded at Beth. "But it wasn't near as hot as that vaj action you just gave me." I posed erotically against the closet door and ran my hand down my cleavage. "You want to come over here for more, Beth?"

She snorted. "I don't go near lips that have touched the Kiss of Death." She fluttered her eyelashes. "I bet you wish you had followed my advice now, don't you? Everybody wants a piece of Silver Pussy."

I groaned and threw my arms in the air. "I didn't kiss Edward, okay?"

"Oh, we're on a first-name basis now, are we?"

"For fuck's sake...we didn't do anything. We just...well, I don't really know what we did actually..."

"What, did you have sex without kissing or something?" Maribel probed.

I turned around and stared into the closet, hoping it would give me an excuse to stop talking. "No, we didn't do anything. Not even a hug."

Halley heaved a sigh of relief, although I couldn't tell if it was for her or for me.

I turned around with the cheeky smile and, with the tip of my index finger touching my chin, I said, "but we did hold hands!" I giggled like a schoolgirl.

They didn't seem amused. I pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants from my drawer and started to get dressed.

Maribel seemed bored, Holly was sporting a shy smile, and Beth was still watching me inquisitively. "What do you think, girls, do we believe her?"

Maribel helped Beth off the floor. "Well, she's not crying on his doorstep or screaming at us to stay away from her one true love - no offense, Halley."

Halley blushed.

"Oh come on, Maribel, don't be giving Halley shit after the fuss you made over him over Christmas last year. You're just lucky he doesn't have a thing for fake platinum blonde hair."

Maribel stepped up to Beth menacingly. "You want to end up locked in the closet with Hairy Harry again? You know I can make that shit happen."

Beth skittered out from between her and the bed. "Okay, Okay. I'm done. Now both of you get the hell out of my house." She grabbed my hand, pulled me out of the room, and out the front door before I had even finished buttoning up my pants.

Beth pulled out a cigarette and headed down the street at a moderate stroll. I finished fastening my jeans and then caught up with her.

"I'm going to give you one last chance," she said.

I looked around, searching for the movie screen cowboy she must be talking to. "What? Are you talking to me?"

She took a nice long draw from the cigarette. "Yes, bimbo." She paused. "I might start calling you that. Bimbo. It has a nice ring to it."

I watched as she sucked almost the entire rest of the cigarette into her mouth.

"So? Did you kiss him?"

 _Seriously?_ "No. For fuck's sake, I didn't kiss the evil Kiss of Death. He just took me into some cave, then walked me down to a coffee sh -

Beth grabbed my arm to. "Wait, he took you to the cave?"

I became exasperated. "Yes! Some cave off the path. Do you want directions?"

She stared in disbelief. "The Kissing Cave. He took you to the Kissing Cave, and he didn't kiss you."

I shook my head. "I guess."

She stared at me for another long moment, then turned abruptly and continued her walk. "I believe you."

Did she want a cookie?

I shrugged it off and fell into step behind her. "So what did you guys do last night?"

She pushed her lips into a subtle duck face. "What? Or who?" She raised an eyebrow at me.

"Really. And what size dick graced your lady hole last night?"

She chuckled. "Let's just say that no thanks to the roommate rule, Kirk is off the menu for you."

My jaw dropped. "Nice work, bitch."

"That's the way shit rolls when you don't take my advice."

"I told you I didn't kiss him, fat face."

"Fat face? That's all you got?" She flicked her cigarette and smashed it under her flip-flop. "I'm going to have to have Pat give you a bitch vocabulary lesson. Can't have friends of mine walking around using insults like fat face."

"Insult?" I worked my best sneer. "I was just being descriptive."

Her face lit up with laughter and she grabbed my hand, swinging our arms like a couple of second graders. "Maybe there's hope for you yet." She caught me looking curiously at our hands clasped together. "Don't get all sentimental on me, I didn't grab your pussy."

Another cigarette mysteriously appeared between the fingers of her right hand. She lit it, took a puff, and blew the smoke out, staring straight ahead. "We hookers are close out here. With all those dicks whacking around like they own the place, we've got to take care of each other. Our little group in particular is tight, but we look out for the other ladies, too. Ain't none of these jackasses got time for any emotional woman, so we've got to look out for each other." She looked at me dead in the face. "We never leave each other hanging, never taste the same cock without the express permission of the chick who got there first, and we never, never let a hooker go anywhere by herself drunk, with or without a man."

I crinkled my nose. "Why the word 'hooker?'"

She smirked. "Some ass hat looking to get laid told us once that we acted like a bunch of hookers who needed a pimp." She shrugged. "It stuck."

I laughed. It appeared I had to come to the right place. "So, are you going to make good on your promise? Tell me about the Kiss of Death."

"Why, do you have plans to go spelunking with him again? I'm not sure I want to tell you now that you're interested in him."

"I'm not interested in him, I'm interested in the story you all keep going on about. I mean, with the kind of sex you ladies have around here, it's hard to imagine all of you losing your shit over a stupid kiss."

She snorted. "If there was any doubt that you were telling the truth about not kissing him, it's gone now."

I groaned. "Seriously, what's the deal? I have never seen perfectly sensible girls act so insensible!"

She shook her head with a sigh and offered me a puff of her cigarette. I held up my hand to decline. "You sure?" she said. "If you don't need it now, you're going to need it by the time I'm done with the story."

I let go of her hand, grab the stub, and took a nice long drag. It had been ages since I'd had one, but it tasted just as good. "There, happy? Are you convinced I can survive story time with Beth now?"

She smiled. "Nobody survives story time with Beth."


	8. Chapter 8

At that point, we'd reach the end of our small residential street. I followed Beth across the adjoining street, through a field, and around the back of an old torn up fence to an area that looked like it had become the neighborhood junkyard. She meandered through old car parts, torn up cardboard boxes, broken yard tools, and even on old typewriter until we came to an abandoned snowplow. Beth nestled herself into the shovel of the snowplow and patted the spot next to her.

"When you chain-smoke like I do, there's no better way to avoid burning down the city than by smoking in my little office here." She dowsed her cigarettes stub on a piece of plywood sitting over top an old truck tire that appeared to serve as a makeshift coffee table. I sat down next to her as she reached around the back of the shovel. By the time I was situated, she had an old radio sitting on the coffee table, calmly playing tunes from the local oldies station.

"Thirsty?" she asked.

I wasn't, but I was exceedingly curious about exactly where she planned to procure something to drink. I nodded.

She pulled up the plywood lid to her coffee table, reached in, and pulled out two beers from the inside of the truck tire. She handed one to me. "Cheers."

"You realize it's only 10 o'clock in the morning, right?" I said.

She shrugged. "I know. Time for breakfast."

I reluctantly followed her lead, opened the bottle with the edge of the plow shovel, and took a swig. Ugh. Beer did not taste near as good this early in the morning. But that disappointment was offset by the fact that it was at least cold.

"So you want to know about the Kiss of Death..." She balanced the neck of her beer between two fingers and adjusted her position so her head was laying in my lap. She held her beer above her head and tipped it back so a drizzle of fluid fell into her gaping mouth.

She smacked her lips. "I've been doing this oilfield thing for a nice long while. Eight years, to be exact."

What? eight years? She couldn't be older than maybe 25. Did she just look really young?

She laughed and her next acrobatic drizzle missed her mouth, dripping down her chin. "Everyone gives me that look when I tell them that. It's pretty simple: I graduated high school at 16 - it was too fuckin' easy and it pissed me off so I got my ass out of there as fast as I could. My mom was making me crazy, we fought constantly, so I moved up here with my old man and started working full-time in his office - that shit sucked. I am not a paper-fucker."

I snickered.

"Anyways, as soon as I hit eighteen, I moved out of his shithole trailer, got a field gig, and got my own place."

I nodded, knowingly. My parents were good people but they never really "got" me. At least not once I hit puberty. They were hoping for a slightly more standard package from the adoption agency, I guess.

"Happy?"

I glanced down at her. "I'm not gonna be happy until you fuck up and spill that entire beer on your fat face."

She sat up and stuck her finger right between my eyes, berating me like a disobedient dog. "No, Bella. No! We talked about this. No more fat face or I won't tell you about the Kiss of Death."

I raised my hands in submission. "Okay, okay. No more fat face."

"Good girl." She settled in next to me, her knees up and her arm hanging loosely over them. "Now, our friend The Kiss of Death there didn't come wagging that little ass out here until about four years ago. Before then, you'd never have convinced me that one guy was capable of creating such a clusterfuck out of perfectly lovely girls. I mean, most of these hookers have been with me for at least six years and they've broken more pitter-patting male oilfield hearts than have broken theirs. Hell, I think they like fuckin' each other more than they like screwing the men out here." She burst out laughing, but got some beer down the wrong tube and ended up hacking like a choking junkie.

"Don't die on me now, Bethie. I'll kill myself if I don't get to hear this goddamn story," I said, slapping her on the back.

She finally calmed down and shook her head vigorously. "Whew! Might have to cut down on the smokes." She sat up and reached back into the 'coffee table,' fumbled around a bit until she pulled her hand out with some paper and a small plastic bag. She cleared a spot between us, laid out the paper, and grabbed a pinch of weed from the bag.

"Oh for God's sake, Beth, is there anything you don't do?"

She looked at me pointedly. "Love. I don't do fuckin' love." She rolled the doobie and reached into her back pocket, returning with a lighter. "And anyways, this is to help me quit smoking. So I don't want to hear any shit from you."

I sighed and leaned back into the shovel. I set my beer down; I knew I wasn't going to finish it. "So can we get to the point already? I don't have all day to sit around on my ass and smoke weed like some people."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you?"

I huffed. "Okay, I don't _want_ to sit around on my ass and smoke weed all day."

She laughed as she lit her joint. "Oh, you will. By the time I'm don't with you, you will." She took a long draw followed by a salacious moan. "So the Kiss of Death moves out here four years ago. Lives with Kirk. Cute guy. Nice guy. Doesn't talk much, but that's a nice break for most of us. Anna was the first one to jump all over that fuckin' train wreck." She glanced up at me. "You haven't met Anna. And you won't. One helluva hooker, that one. She was crazy. I don't think I could count the number of orgies and devil's threesomes..." She tucked a hair behind her ear and took another drag. "Anyways, this was back in her more innocent days. We were trying to break her into this life - in other words, get her to dump her long-distance boyfriend and have some fun - and she had this thing for Edward. Fine, whatever, I'm not gonna judge another girl's tastes. So, like any good bitches, we pulled some strings with the dudes we knew, and laid the groundwork for a party at Bill's house."

She gave me a sideways glance. "You haven't met Bill yet. He and his wife live just outside of town and they throw the best parties, they're totally chill and friggin hilarious - pretty wild for a married couple."

"This place can't get any weirder..."

"Sure it can. So we get Anna looking hotter than a stripper in a swanky Vegas casino, not lettin' on about our little plan because she's still stuck on this stupid boyfriend thing, and we arrive at that party like a bulldozer. We fuckin' ran the place that night, Bella, shit you shoulda been there. Throwin' down shots, flirting and dumping right and left, dancing like divas, we made everyone look lame. And the funny thing is, after all our hard work spreading rumors and setting things up just right so Anna'd get laid, we didn't have to do a damn thing after we got there. Edward was all up in that, following her around, getting her drinks, talking her up real good. So we're thinking we got one more hooker and one less lamer on the crew, especially when they left together."

She took a long drag. My back was starting to get stiff against the hard and awkwardly-angled shovel, but there was no way in hell I was stopping Beth for anything.

"Shit got weird after that. She came home the next morning elated beyond reason. I mean, it's one thing to be in a state of blissful after a good lay but this chick was in some form of heaven. I thought she was high as a kite most of the day, talkin' about being in love, and roses and fuckin' rings even, blah, blah, blah. She broke up with her boyfriend over text - even I know that's a shitty thing to do. She was floatin' on air all day. And then," she shook her head, "later that night, we found out she didn't even fuck him."

She started, then looked at me directly in the eye. "Did you hear what I said, Bella? No fucking. They did not fuck. No pussy love."

"Uhhhh...yeah, I heard you." 

"Why aren't you more surprised? You should be all up in your own shit surprised. Only a really, really, really, really, really, really good fuck should make a girl act like that."

I grimaced. "I knew quite a few girls who started naming their kids after one date with a very average dude."

Beth's eyes widened. "That shit's messed up. Remind me never to visit Telluride." She smashed her stub into the tire. "Anyways, she kissed him. One kiss. Not even a make-out session. We were all perplexed. They eventually did fuck and then she started making wedding plans and he freaked out and dumped her - can't totally blame him for that. And that's when she became a real hooker - so I suppose I should be thankful. She went wild. Fucked the whole town in a million different ways and then disappeared. Haven't seen her in over a year. But the fact is, the same thing happened to Halley a month or two later. Halley took it much harder, didn't so much as look at a guy for six months after that Kiss of Death. Then Chrissy - she moved back home after that trainwreck. It happens every fuckin' time. Every time, Bella." She gave me a stern look.

I grabbed her beer and took a swig. It was raunchy but better than dealing with the eyes of death boring into me. "I get it. Kiss of Death, no good."

"So you stay away from that shit. I've lost enough hookers over that dude. It's not fair." She shook her head in defeat.

"Are you saying I'm an honorary hooker?"

She scrutinized me. "You certainly fit the profile. But we'll see. You have to pass the hazing first."

I raised my eyebrows. "You guys have hazing?"

She flashed a wicked smile. "We do as of about ten seconds ago. Come on, let's get back to the house. I have to work out the details of your torture with those other bitches."


End file.
